


Under the Edge

by Basingstoke



Series: Unfinished WIP clearinghouse [2]
Category: Andromeda, Highlander: The Series
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-26 03:18:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/960961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basingstoke/pseuds/Basingstoke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Methos joins the crew of the Andromeda. </p>
<p>Sadly, I have NO idea where I was going with this, and now I never will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under the Edge

"Food is this way, quarters are that way. They're all the same, they're assigned, check your flexi and don't argue. Lucky you--we're big enough you don't have to share." Commander--or was that Captain?--Valentine waved them through the airlock. "Seamus Harper makes the ship go. Trance Gemini makes *you* go. Tyr Anasazi shoots the weapons. I'm the big boss. Dylan Hunt is the bigger boss. Andromeda is all around us plus a cute little avatar besides, and she makes the air you breathe. Any questions?"

The new crew looked at each other. Nobody spoke up.

"Good. I have one. How the hell do you guys say your names?"

The crew looked at each other again. Valentine pointed a finger at the woman nearest her. "Anastasia Wolkrig, sir!"

"Three Rains Falling, sir!" said the Than next to her.

"That's not what it says here," Valentine replied, looking at the roster.

"I'm pro-translation."

"Okay. You!" Valentine pointed at the man next in line.

"Thoa Anderson."

"And you?"

"Eadig Vnderegge." He pronounced his surname with a U at the beginning and four distinct syllables.

Valentine raised an eyebrow.

"Middle English. It doesn't transliterate well in Common," Methos said.

"Given that what you just said has no relation to the letters on this page? I'm agreeing with you. Okay--get settled and report. Vnderegge and Three Rains Falling to Harper, Anderson to Tyr, Wolkrig to me. One hour."

"Yes, sir!" Methos said with the others.

*

Harper went down to medical with his burnt finger in his mouth. Habit! Reflex! Couldn't help it. "Trance?"

No scary golden girl to be found. "Andromeda? Where's Trance?"

"In the garden--Harper, I think she may need help."

"Help? Like what kind of help?" He was already running for the gardens. "Tyr help?"

"I'm not sure. I don't understand Trance's physiology. She might be sleeping--but it came on very suddenly."

"Sudden is bad. I'm not in favor of sudden," Harper said, and he slammed his way into the garden, where Trance was lying on the floor. "Whoa! Trance!"

Her eyes were closed. She was breathing, but she wasn't moving. "Trance!" Harper knelt beside her. "Andromeda, is anything broken?"

"No. She reads normally."

"This is not normal." He touched her forehead--warm, normal--then patted her cheek gently. "Wakey wakey, Trance."

No response. He tried again, harder, and still nothing. "Andromeda, tell Dylan," Harper decided.

*

Methos sat outside the engine room with Three Rains for nearly an hour past the time they were given. The Than betrayed its impatience by the increasingly frantic twitching of its antennae. "What does your name mean?" it asked finally.

"Vnderegge? Under the edge," Methos said. "As in the bottom of a cliff. Eadig doesn't mean anything, as far as I know. Yours?"

"The three rains are of the three seasons--hot, wet, cold. Half the eggs in my hive were named for the three rains that year, since there was so much." The Than made a noise that didn't appear to be a word, since its voice synthesizer didn't catch it. "Human names are so funny--why call yourself by something that doesn't mean anything?"

"Tradition, I think."

"What's Middle English?" Three Rains asked.

"Er--it's the form of the language that came before Modern--Shakespearean--English. The language was in rapid transition about four thousand years ago, and went from Old to Middle to Modern in about a thousand years. Then it was frozen." Until the fall of the Commonwealth, of course, when the Human worlds was enslaved and tribalized and the language began to evolve again. There were approximately ten thousand dialects of Vulgar English now--one for every camp of Human slaves.

But he could keep that behind his teeth.

"Than doesn't change," Three Rains said. "It's illegal."

"You punish people for speaking differently?"

"We eat them."

"Ah." Methos took that at face value until he noticed its antennae gyrating. "Oh! Good one."

Three Rains slapped him on the back as the door whooshed open and Harper, their errant boss, finally arrived. And took a step back. "Who are you?"

"New crew," Methos said.

"Oh! Right. Uh--not the best time, but we might need you, so--here. Schematics. Learn 'em." He cued up a terminal, then took a closer look at Methos. "Port?"

"Yes." Methos pulled his collar back.

"Good. Nice one. Take a look around."

"What's my security clearance?"

"Whatever Rommie says it is. Treat the lady right or get burned. And now? I gotta go. Stay and learn until dinner is called, then you can go. Too. Nice to meet ya." He grabbed a computer pad and boiled back out the door.

Methos and Three Rains exchanged glances. "Well, then," Methos said, and took his port connector from his pocket.

"Somehow I thought that would be more formal."

Methos shrugged. His research had left him far from certain as to what to expect. He'd been prepared for scrutiny; his records were impeccable. He'd gone through the new Academy--that wasn't even forged. He wouldn't scan as Human, but that would hardly raise an eyebrow. Ha--If push came to shove, he could probably pass himself off as one of Trance's kinsmen.

But he'd passed into this ship as easily as Vodra mumps into a newborn kitten. He smiled to himself and plugged in to Andromeda.

Ugh, that sickening rush as his mind left his body... tempered by the euphoria when his neuroelectric system meshed with the computer. He wondered if Humans felt this way--or Perseids, or Than, or anything other than an Immortal.

He popped back into consciousness inside the Andromeda matrix. He could see the structure of the ship's brain and the shifting shapes of processes flowing across it. Beautiful. The avatar of the ship stood to his left. "Crewman Vnderegge," she said. "Welcome."

"Delighted to meet you," Methos said.

*


End file.
